Hilda smiled and curtsied slightly as she shook his hand. “The honor is mine. I am but a local healer here in the city, and I was simply offering my assistance to those here in the palace.”
“Well, it is quite nice to meet you,” Lenamare said. “Isn’t it, Jehenna?”
The woman looked at Lenamare out the side of her eyes and finally said, “Yes, a pleasure.”
Hilda laughed self-consciously. “Well, it certainly is for me. I am but an animage and unschooled in conjury and the traditional wizardly arts, but every time I look at those wards, I am amazed by their complexity and skill. I should think if the Rod were to send Tiernon’s own Host against them, they would surely give it pause and likely stop it in its tracks. The strand weaving is so intricate, the power channels so strong and deep, well, it’s beyond my ability to follow, but clearly it is an unparalleled work of warding in the history of wizardry.” Hilda squinted and tilted her head as if looking through the ceiling at the wards. “I swear, a work of art as much as work of engineering.” She sighed and then shook her head as if coming to. “I’m sorry. I know you must get tired of fawning admiration like this, but I just get a bit overtaken when I see great works of mana manipulation.”
Lenamare chuckled. “Not at all, my dear. I am always happy when people appreciate my efforts.”
“Well, the city certainly does. You are the talk of the town,” Hilda told him.
“Really?” Jehenna asked.
Hilda nodded. “Certainly no one has ever commanded so many demons so thoroughly before; not to mention the fact that Councilor Lenamare here commanded the demon that beat the Rod’s champion. In a city dedicated to wizardry, how could they not talk about such amazing achievements? Although, to be honest,” Hilda lowered her voice a bit, “I have noticed a rather large amount of envy and jealousy along with the admiration.”
Lenamare chuckled again. “My dear, it goes with the trade. Envy and jealousy are so often the traits of those who are unable to find fulfillment in their own craftsmanship.”
Hilda noticed Trisfelt rolling his eyes; she gave him a wink as Lenamare looked to Jehenna and Hortwell for confirmation of his opinion.
“So Trisfelt tells me you both have a passion for good wine?” Lenamare asked, turning back to Hilda.
Hilda grinned and said, “I fear we both may be a bit susceptible to a good bottle now and then.”
“Excellent; then you should join us for dinner this evening. I have a very rare House Trefalgaereon PV392 Meridel that I was wanting to bring out to relax with.”
Hilda’s eyes lit up with joy. “A truly rare bottle indeed. I would be greatly honored!” She looked to Trisfelt to ensure he was happy with the invitation. He clearly was; the House Trefalgaereon PV392 was a very expensive bottle of wine.
“You know, I think coups were a lot simpler in the old days,” Ramses observed just before sticking a large forkful of triceratops sirloin into his mouth. He closed his eyes to savor the flavor.
“Coups are never easy,” Bess told him as she took a drink of Denubian Choco-CoffeeTM.
“Yes, but do new players have to keep getting involved?” Exador asked. “I think that is Ramses’ point.”
“Well, technically this mana-draining demon isn’t a totally new player; remember, he was playing around at Lenamare’s Academy before you managed to lose my army,” Bess reminded him.
“I lost troops as well,” Ramses said around another chunk of steak in his mouth.
“We all lost people.” Exador shook his head in frustration. “Those Dok Alvar of mine are particularly hard to replace. Being relatively long-lived, alvar of both sides are particularly averse to being vaporized. Once word gets out that you’ve had one alvaren legion reduced to ashes, it is damn difficult to get another.” He cut another piece of steak and promptly ate it.
“Okay, I am sorry I brought it up,” Bess said. “We have already agreed to move on from that incident. We should focus on the current issue, and whether or not Lilith is involved with this demon.”
“I find it hard to believe,” Ramses said, sipping on his blood wine. “This demon actually had the book. It took it from Exador’s camp with Lenamare’s student. If the demon had been working for Lilith, would it not have gone directly back to her, given her the book and then game over?”
“One would think.” Exador shook his head in frustration.
“So then, are we back to the demon being Lenamare’s?” Bess asked.
No one had an answer for that. It was a theory the three felt they had discredited. They ate in silence for a few moments. Exador poured himself some more blood wine. Ramses had a very nice wine cellar; they should dine here more often. He had not had triceratops in decades. It was a difficult import even to the Abyss, let alone hauling it to Astlan and finding a human chef that could adequately prepare it. One would almost need a jötunn chef to butcher it properly.
“What if,” Ramses began before taking a bite of his mashed parsnips, “we’ve got it backward? What if Lenamare is working for the demon?”
Bess simply stared at him.
Exador frowned and said, “You mean like a warlock?”
Ramses shrugged. “It might explain how Lenamare has been able to give you such a difficult time. We’ve often remarked on how unusually gifted the man is for a human.”
“So, you think he’s had help?” Bess nodded at the idea.
“It is a possibility. Isn’t it?” Ramses asked.
Exador was silent, thinking about it. “I suppose it’s possible. We just know so little about this demon. As we have discussed, he is clearly not newly bound as we had thought, nor is he simply a greater demon. He is at least an archdemon, if not a prince. Although how he could have remained hidden all this time is very odd.”
“Really?” Bess asked. “How long have you known me?”
“She has a point,” Ramses said around another giant piece of steak.
Bess shook her head. “The Abyss is huge; infinite, in fact. After I had my falling out with Orcus, I took my minions and we headed to the far side of the Abyss for six thousand years or so. I’m still rather pissed that none of my contacts bothered to tell me he’d been offed four thousand years ago and that I could have come back sooner.”
“What was it you did again that got you on his wrong side?” Ramses asked as he took another drink of blood wine.
Bess shrugged. “I messed with his wand.”
The other two archdemons started laughing. “Ahh, so you had an affair that ended badly.”
Bess threw her napkin on the table. “Not that wand, you lecherous old perverts.” She shook her head in disgust, although she was obviously not that mad. “His magic wand — you know, the legendary Wand of Orcus.’”
Exador swallowed a bit hard and asked, “Whatever happened to that?”
Ramses shrugged. “I assume that Tiernon’s people took it. I had not yet arrived at that point. Never met the man. I only know what they say in the Balladae Orcusae.” He paused for a moment, a puzzled frown coming over his face. “Of course! I knew I’d heard that bard’s name somewhere.”
Bess looked at him, puzzled. “You mean the one in the demon’s entourage that provides the link to Lilith?”
Ramses nodded. “Exactly. It had a familiar ring to it, and that is why. He has played before the Triumvirate and their guests on a number of occasions. The only time I’ve heard the entire Baladae Orcusae was from him.” Ramses closed his eyes and rolled his head. “Concordenax, did that thing go on and on. The Triumvirate insisted on having the entire ballad played. I think they like savoring their former compatriot’s defeat.”
Exador shrugged. “I am sure Mephistopheles does. If Orcus hadn’t bit the dust, he wouldn’t be in the Triumvirate today.”